Hunter's Reckoning
by game-on-panda
Summary: Following the events of Reaper of Souls, a scoundrel weighs his intentions, while a demon hunter considers how far a man can fall before he cannot be saved.
1. Chapter 1

_Diablo III; Diablo III: Reaper of Souls and all related characters and locations are the property of Blizzard. This is a fan-written fiction._

_Plot: Following the events of Reaper of Souls, a scoundrel weighs his intentions, while a demon hunter considers how far a man can fall before he cannot be saved._

_Warning: Spoilers through the conclusion of Reaper of Souls and personal quests._

* * *

><p>reckoning: (noun) The working out of consequences or retribution for one's actions.<p>

* * *

><p>Alexa watched the flames, finding an odd pleasure in the way they danced against the wood. She was a master at sitting quietly with nothing but her own company, simpler to leave the world behind so she could contemplate the recent events in Westmarch, but also spare a thought here and there for that odd look on Tyrael's face when she walked away from the battle with Malthael, relatively unscathed. Kormac had seen it too, and remarked upon it later as they warmed themselves by the fire. "I don't think our angelic friend trusts you anymore."<p>

Lyndon snorted across the campfire. "Was it the way he flinches whenever he comes nearby or the fact that he can't look her in the face without working his mouth like he's bitten something foul?"

"I don't believe I asked your opinion," Kormac grumbled.

"Doesn't mean I won't give it to you."

"Please," Eirena broke in. "Won't you two stop for just a few moments?"

Kormac turned his attention to Alexa. "So, as I was saying, he's got that look."

"I noticed," she responded.

"What do you suppose he's afraid of?"

"She killed one angel," Lyndon sniffed. "What's stopping her from working her way up?"

Kormac scowled. "Unlike some people I know, I doubt she'd pick a target that could fight back."

"And unlike some people _I_ know, she's probably not stupid enough to believe everything she's told without question, because you know what that leads to, hypocrisy, corruption, the usual. Marvelous world we live in, isn't it, templar?"

Alexa frowned at him. The thief had his faults, but misguided anger wasn't one of them.

"Don't look at me like that," Lyndon muttered. "Of all people, _you_ shouldn't look at me like that." He stood up, gathered his weapon and coat and walked away from the warmth of the campfire, looking for some shadows to wallow in his misery alone.

"Hell," Kormac swore softly, "and here I go thinking I don't know _him_ anymore either."

Eirena scolded him. "You two always argue. How well can you know him if disgust is all you have for him?"

"He has changed. When we met him, I thought he was a criminal, undesirable, and unworthy of our task. Since we found his brother, though, he hasn't been himself. He's been distant, angry, dare I say it, grieving. It is… unlike him."

"I grieved for my sisters, Kormac. I was angry, sad, afraid. He shares those feelings for his brother. Can you not sympathize with that?"

Kormac scowled. "I don't need to call a man 'friend' to know if his intentions are honorable or not. He wears his interests on his sleeves and in his coin purse."

"His intentions were to save his brother," the enchantress protested.

Kormac sighed. "And I have no doubt that in his mind his intentions were true, but they led to his brother's death."

Eirena huffed. "That is a terrible thing to say!"

"Are you suggesting he's responsible?" Alexa asked, her tone soft, but just suspicious enough.

Kormac flushed, embarrassed. "No! No, I didn't say that. I mean, he didn't put the knife there. He didn't kill his brother, that, that isn't what I'm suggesting at all! I mean, we were there, we found his brother, but…" He trailed off. "Perhaps you should go talk to him," he said to Alexa. "He listens to you."

"I believe it is the other way around," she corrected, getting to her feet.

"He'd be a good man if he would listen," Korman muttered.

"Kormac."

He looked at her.

"We're all exhausted and grieving in our ways. Leave Lyndon to his."

"Happily," Kormac grunted, and looked into the fire.

Eirena looked between them. "Where do you suppose our travels shall take us next?" she asked Kormac, desperately grasping at some change of subject. She did not like to see her friends fight, especially not over one of their own.

As was his way, Kormac stammered a response "Next? Our travels? Oh, I, I hadn't thought much on it. I suppose we could go back to Caldeum."

"I spent most of my life in Caldeum. Where else would you like to go?"

Kormac managed a smile, the unpleasant conversation forgotten. "Wherever you are going, of course. I'm sure we will find no end of adventure."

Eirena beamed. "Excellent. I'm sure we'll find plenty of excitement."

Alexa listened to them for a moment and walked off into the shadows to find Lyndon.

* * *

><p>She found the thief sitting by himself, contemplating an unopened bottle of brandy.<p>

"I'm still not sharing," he told her.

"I didn't intend to ask. I also don't want to know where you got the brandy."

"Merchant in the corner," Lyndon said, indicating a direction with his thumb. "Flighty, but she has good merchandise."

Alexa sat down without invitation, wrapped in her cloak.

"You look like a giant bird," Lyndon said. "Bird of prey, some kind of dark bird, like you're about to swoop down and peck someone's brains out. If you're looking for targets, can I suggest our templar friend? He could use some more brain twisting, if you ask me."

She let him rage, left it alone.

Lyndon cracked the bottle open. "Really? Not even a scolding frown?"

"Do you still intend to go to Kingsport?"

The bottle hovered near his mouth. "I'm still considering it, yes."

"And what will you do there?"

"Show the same restraint you showed with that witch."

Alexa shook her head. "It was revenge. Adria's death didn't bring me peace, Lyndon."

"No? I'm sure it brought Leah some."

"On that we can agree."

Lyndon examined the bottle. "This brandy is awful."

"I'm amazed it isn't tainted by demon blood and undead bile."

The thief wrinkled his nose. "Your idea of humor terrifies me."

"I have no sense of humor."

"Clearly not, or you wouldn't direct it at me." Lyndon put the brandy down, rested his arms on his knees. "I have to go back," he said. "I have to. I let Edlin down; I let him fall because of me, and then he died because I tried to make things right. Everything I touch falls apart. So, going to Kingsport means I won't come back here. I'd never see any of you again. I'll explain what I can to whoever might listen, and when I find Rea…"

Alexa sat back, listening.

"When I find her," Lyndon continued, his voice soft, "I'm going to look into her eyes and ask why she did it."

"And then what?"

"Depending on the answer I get, the axe or the rope, I suppose."

"For which one of you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, if I murder her, I don't suppose they'll hang her in protest of my crime, will they?"

She ignored his outburst. "So you mean to go alone?"

"Nothing holding me here." Lyndon looked at her. "What? You don't want to come with me! What about all those demons need killing? What about that suddenly scared mortal angel over there? I mean, he could turn bad any minute. Wouldn't you need to stay here, so, you know, you could kill him?"

"It's not Tyrael I'm worried about at this point in time."

Lyndon's briefly shocked expression turned into a scowl. "If you say you're worried about me, I swear—"

She tilted her head, questioning.

"I'll just be very annoyed," Lyndon said, looking away. "I mean, really, I'm a grown man, I don't need some trigger-happy brooding bird looking over my shoulder." He sighed, put the bottle down. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice softer than she'd ever heard. "Truly, you'd come with me to Kingsport? You'd help me find out why this happened?"

"I've grown used to traveling with a friend," Alexa admitted. "And, besides, I'm sure I could find a demon or two to kill in Kingsport."

Lyndon offered a shadow of a smile. "I'm sure I could be persuaded to help. If the coin's good."

"You'd be surprised at how good it can be. Find a few skittish priests and you wouldn't have to work for months."

"You mistake me for a frugal man."

"We all have our challenges."

"I've yet to see you take on a challenge you couldn't terrify to its core."

She shrugged.

"There you go, looking like a bird again. Like a great brooding owl."

"If there was a bird I was partial to, an owl might be it."

"You have preferences?" Lyndon shook his head. "Here you go surprising me again. next thing I know, you'll forgive all my transgressions and throw yourself at me."

It was Alexa's turn to roll her eyes.

"And there's the demon hunter I'm looking for," he teased. "Suppose we should get a move on if we're going to make the next ship. If you're still coming."

"I don't think I said otherwise."

"No," he agreed. "no, you didn't." He got to his feet, turned to offer her a hand but she was already up. "So. Onward?"

* * *

><p>"You're leaving?" Eirena frowned. "After all we've just been through? We've just found one another again. We can't separate so soon."<p>

"I certainly don't like the thought of your life in his hands," Kormac said.

"I am right here," Lyndon argued.

"I'm not sure how long we'll be in Kingsport," Alexa said, stopping their impending disagreement. To Eirena, she said, "You and Kormac should remain here, in case anything else happens with the angels."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kormac said. He looked over Alexa's shoulder. "Tyrael's not just watching you closely; he's got a few of the Horadrim watching all of us. I think he's worried, with all we've seen, that we might do something foolish."

Lyndon snorted. "Look. We've a ship to catch. Are you two coming or not?"

"I would like to see Kingsport," Eirena said. "It could be where we make our new start."

Kormac turned crimson briefly. "I… yes, a new start, indeed. Yes. Let's do that."

Lyndon sighed, and looked at Alexa. "Do we really need to bring these two along? Can't we just bring Eirena? She'll at least find shiny things as interesting as I do."

"Which is why I'm coming along," Kormac interrupted, "to make sure you don't relieve anyone of their trinkets."

"Gods, man, it's like you're completely unaware that the bloody Thieves Guild _runs_ Kingsport. If I nicked anyone's 'trinkets', chances are the person I stole from stole those same items first."

Alexa looked at Eirena. "Eirena, would you and Kormac tell Haedrig and Shen about our plans and get any supplies we might need? Lyndon, with me."

"Are we leaving them behind?" he asked too eagerly.

"No, we're going to talk to Tyrael."

"Do we _have_ to?" Lyndon whined.

"If you want us to leave Westmarch without too many questions, yes."

"So long as that helmet-headed nincompoop isn't asking me questions, fine."

* * *

><p>Tyrael offered her a polite nod as she approached. "Nephalem," he greeted her.<p>

"Tyrael. I wanted to inform you, we're leaving."

"There is still much work to do here."

"And we might return for it someday," Lyndon said, "but for now, pressing matters, family things, you understand, I'm sure, seeing as your own brother just tried to murder the world."

Tyrael gazed at him for a long moment. "You are troubled, thief," he said. He looked at Alexa. "Do not trust this one."

"Well, she _does_ trust me," Lyndon muttered. "More than you or that tin-hatted buffoon ever will."

Tyrael shook his head. "Where are you going, nephalem?"

"To resolve unfinished business," Alexa responded.

"For yourself?"

"For my friend."

"His unresolved affairs are now yours?"

Alexa nodded.

"I do not trust this path, nephalem. Do you know if his intentions are honorable? Or even directed at the right enemy?"

"I'm standing _right here_," Lyndon grunted. "I swear, if I had a shiny trinket or two, you wouldn't keep talking about me like I'm not right here."

Alexa pointed. "Go stand over there," she told him. "I need to speak to Tyrael."

Lyndon walked away, grumbling to himself about fallen angels, and if their heads were this thick as mortals, how daft must they have been when they were more than human? Feather-heads, all of them.

Tyrael exhaled sharply through his nose. "Our work here is not done."

"Malthael is dead; the city is rebuilding. What more do you want of us?"

"The thief will lead you to a dark path, a path that I am not sure you can leave once you begin walking it."

"I have walked this path for nearly my entire life. If anyone understands revenge better than I do, point them out to me."

"Very well. When your task is resolved," Tyrael said, "return to Westmarch. This place will need a guide."

"I'm a hunter," she told him, "not a leader. If you seek a guide, look in a mirror."

The former angel shook his head. "I have seen my mirror, and believe me, my friend, I would not wish to see that man have any power."

Alexa forced the mortal-angel to look at her. "You are still unable to face your own past and what your judgment and Malthael wrought on this world. When you are ready to face yourself, Tyrael, then you may question what I am willing to do."

Tyrael lowered his gaze. "The thief is troubled. Even I can see it. Can you kill a man as easily as you dispatch demons if he falls from his own path?"

For a moment, he saw a spark in the hunter's eyes, an echo of a promise to see the thief's intent through until the end. No matter how unsavory that task might be, if it was worthy of such a vow, then it could not be broken.

"A man falls easier than a demon," she said. "The difference between them is that the man had a choice to fall, and the demon was created that way."

"And what if a man chooses to fall? What then?"

Her eyes shifted directly at him. She had the look of one exercising great restraint over one's tongue.

Tyrael prodded: "Nephalem? And what then?"

"My aim is true," she said evenly, and walked away from him.

Tyrael bowed his head, examining Eldruin's hilt. The sword gave him no answer, no comfort.

"Tyrael."

He lifted his head, saw her looking at him from beneath her hood, her eyes two small sparks of white in shadow. "Do not forget," she said, "you chose to fall."

She joined her companions out of his sight, and he clutched his sword, lost in her words.

_The thief is corrupted by greed and now revenge. That is something you know well, hunter, but how far will you to go to save a falling man?_


	2. Chapter 2

The ship bobbed beneath their feet. Kormac did not like traveling by sea, and grumbled without end, while Eirena listened patiently. Alexa admired that quality in the enchantress; she had long ago stopped believed in virtues, though patience was something she was intimately familiar with. Silence, solitude, the long dark before a hunt's end, the haunted places of the world, those were the familiar things in her life. This camaraderie, these friends, she had never thought to consider anyone such.

_Halissa. Were you really there in Pandemonium? Or were you simply a fragment of Malthael's corruption?_

Her little sister, only a few years younger, had been her true friend. As children, they were innocent, filled with laughter, joy, the wonders of finding fresh flowers along a mountain path, the curiosity of seeing an enormous deer tread delicately through the city gardens in the early morning hours.

_And then we knew fear, madness, agony none should ever have to face. I survived, but to do so, I had to lose so much of myself. I hunt, and I am a master of my craft, but I do not know laughter or joy any longer._

She saw Lyndon lingering beside her, his elbows on the ship railing, staring out at the sea.

"I'd offer a gold piece for your thoughts, but I suspect it would cost me more than that," he said.

"What of your own thoughts?"

"When I untangle them, you'll be the first to know."

She watched waves.

"She must have had a reason," Lyndon said.

Alexa listened.

"I mean, Rea, she must have had a reason for this. All this time, all these years, she wouldn't, she wouldn't do this if there wasn't a damn good reason for it. She, she wouldn't just kill Edlin. She loved him. She said she did. She married him. That means something, right?" Lyndon looked at Alexa. "I mean, isn't that what people do?"

"You're asking the wrong person."

"Of course I am," he grumbled. "Asking a great broody bird about love, what kind of idiot am I?"

"Lyndon."

"What?"

"There is a reason."

"Oh? You've figured it out then?"

She wanted to say something profound like _Everyone has a choice, and she did too_, or _Your brother did not die in vain, not without good cause, because no one is that selfish, not even you_, but she couldn't stand the taste of the words. Instead, she let the simplest response linger: "There is a reason, and we'll find it."

Lyndon groaned. "Good on you, so encouraging. Why do I follow you around again?"

"When we get to Kingsport, you can ask Rea what happened. We will make our choices from there."

"Unless I get too carried away with vengeance," Lyndon said grimly. "Something you'd know a thing or two about, I'd wager."

"Lyndon."

"What?" He sounded exasperated.

"Revenge is not an easy food to live on. It poisons, it twists, and it marks you to your marrow. Sometimes, it even leads you to your target, but once you've satisfied your hunger for vengeance, don't expect that you'll keep it satiated."

The thief lowered his head. "Don't suppose revenge comes with a retirement plan, does it?" he joked weakly.

"Not when you don't expect to live long it doesn't."

"Ah well, never thought I'd die an old man anyway. Granted, the number of times I've almost died since I started following you around continues to surprise me. The fact that I haven't died surprises me, not the following part. So we're beating the odds."

She managed a tense smile.

He grimaced. "I must teach you how to do that properly. I swear, whenever you smile, I fear you're about to scold me or stab me."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Much more agreeable," Lyndon said. "Now you look skeptical. It's a much more appealing look for a woman of your nature."

"Remind me again why I am agreeing to do this for you," she said.

"Because I am a brilliantly charming scoundrel and no woman can resist me."

She rolled her eyes.

"Except you," Lyndon said. "You seem immune. I suspect it's all that revenge you've been living on. Terrible way to live, or so I hear."

"Lyndon."

"Bloody _what_?"

She surprised even herself by reaching out and taking his hand. "There was a reason," she said, hoping this time he heard her.

He stared at their hands for a moment. Without saying a word, he adjusted his fingers until they wrapped around hers. She allowed it.


	3. Chapter 3

Kingsport welcomed them with suspicion and more than a few unsubtle whispers in Lyndon's direction. They managed to find a small inn near the docks and rented two rooms, one for Alexa and Eirena to share, and the other for Kormac and Lyndon. For once, the two men didn't argue about the arrangements, though Kormac sniffed slightly at the inn's less-than-reputable clientele. Lyndon ignored him, too consumed by the task ahead of him; he had no energy left to fight with the templar.

They were all exhausted from travel. The inn was a roof over their heads, and therefore a welcome change from sleeping outdoors, though Eirena murmured an aside to Alexa about how homely and dull the place was. It was better suited for longshoremen, not travelers seeking a soft place to sleep. Alexa didn't quite have the heart to tell her friend that sleep wasn't usually the type of activity conducted in lodges like this.

Lyndon mused aloud about finding the inn's bar, but thought better of it when he realized he knew the bartender from a long ago job-gone-wrong. He wandered into his shared room and closed the door.

Kormac lingered outside for a long moment. He looked at Alexa. "I don't trust this."

"This place or Lyndon's plan?"

"He's actually come up with one? You didn't inform us."

"We will approach one of his contacts and see what additional information they can provide about his brother's wife."

"That's it? That's the entire plan?" Kormac winced at the hunter's vacant expression, her way of stating that a conversation was drawing to its close. "Eirena and I could at least be there to help if things don't work out."

Alexa smiled thinly. "I appreciate your concern. We will be fine."

"You may be. Lyndon, on the other hand, I'm not sure if he will be fine or not."

Alexa stared at the templar. "Is that worry for our thieving friend I hear in your voice?"

Kormac _harrumphed_ rather loudly. "I'm simply expressing my distaste and disagreement with this foolish plan," he said with great offense, and stepped into his room with as much dignity as he could muster. He did not say anything to Lyndon upon entering the room, and they heard no arguments.

Alexa let out a small sigh.

Eirena gave her a forced smile. "Perhaps we should rest. You and Lyndon will have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

It was only too true.

* * *

><p>Kormac eyed Lyndon across their room.<p>

The thief sat on his bed, coat draped over the foot, his legs curled beneath him, examining his bow.

The templar had an urge to interrogate the other man, to ask his intentions, to find out what he'd said to make their friend the hunter so eager to join him. Eager was perhaps the wrong word; the hunter rarely expressed anything other than solemnity, and only seemed alive when killing unholy monsters. Otherwise, she kept to herself, though Kormac had not missed the open way Lyndon looked at her.

Finally, he could not stand it any longer. "What are your intentions?" he blurted.

Lyndon looked at him, suspicious.

"She trusts you. I, clearly, do not. What are you planning, Lyndon?"

"We'll speak to Douglass in the morning. The conversation will be quick and to the point. He'll give us what we want and we'll be on our way."

"So certain are you?"

"Douglass is a trader. He's not a fool. And we've known each other for years."

"That does not ease my mind."

"Your mind isn't the one needing easing," Lyndon snapped. "You're already content with yourself. You've snapped your chains."

The templar stared at him for a long time. "I might have walked away from my order," he said finally, "but do not, for one moment, think that makes me any less than I was."

"I'd never dream of you being anything less than the honorable idiot you are."

"And I do not believe you are anything but a treacherous thief and a criminal, and I am half-convinced you'll do her more harm than good."

"I didn't ask you to come along," Lyndon said.

"No, but I owe her several debts, and I intend to see them repaid. I'll not allow your guild to harm her."

"They're not my guild," Lyndon said, his voice dropping. "They're nothing to me."

"This 'nothing' will bring trouble. Even you can see that."

"Then it's a good thing I've someone so well-versed in anger on my side, isn't it?"

Kormac snorted. "You'd endanger her life to support your vengeance?"

"Isn't that what she did to all of us?" Lyndon nearly snarled.

"That is hardly the same thing."

"How is it different? She dragged us all along on that stupid quest to kill Diablo, and along the way we lost Cain and Leah, not to mention how many men died at the fortress, on top of everyone who died in Tristram, Caldeum, and the Heavens. How many people died before Diablo?"

"We defeated Diablo."

"No, _she_ killed Diablo. Just like she killed Malthael. She's got enough rage to slaughter her way through the High Heavens, and we're lucky to be along for the ride."

Kormac frowned, staring.

Lyndon groaned. "Will you stop looking at me like that?"

"I suspect that when you look in a mirror, you do not see what I see."

"And just what in Hell's name is that supposed to mean?"

"Your anger will be the death of us all if you keep it up."

"Our mighty hunter is angry enough for this rabble. Hasn't killed us yet."

"Lyndon."

The thief made a sound somewhat below the register of a scream, but the frustration was still evident. "Continue this discussion at your peril, templar, or I'll find something to make _you_ angry about."

"All I was going to say is you've a long day ahead of you," Kormac said, carefully placing his weapon and shield beside his bed. "I think sleep is what you require, though the gods know I'd prefer to beat some sense into you."

Lyndon kept his bow in hand, and curled up in the corner of his own bed, using his coat for a blanket. "Name the time and place, you uptight ass. I'll thrash you."

Kormac sighed. He removed his armor piece by piece, stripped to his trousers and shirt, sat down on the bed, removed his boots, and lay down, trying to relax. After some time, he managed to close his eyes.

Sometime much later, Kormac woke from a nightmare, wherein he stood on the ramparts of Bastion's Keep, and caught a last glimpse of Leah's face before the Lord of Terror devoured her. He thought she was crying _Help me_. _It wasn't me. Please help me. It wasn't me._

It took him a moment to realize the voice was in the room with him, but was not Leah.

He sat up, glanced over at the shadowed side of the room where Lyndon lay buried beneath his coat, covering his face with his hands, muttering, "Help me, please, it wasn't me. Please help me, brother. It wasn't me. Help me."

Kormac could not see any glimmer of rest in his immediate future.

* * *

><p>Eirena found her bed very comfortable, and the blanket was especially warm and soft, though she was not sleeping beneath it. Instead, she'd wrapped it around her shoulders and crossed her legs in a meditative gesture, relaxed and relatively at ease.<p>

The enchantress found that she recalled too much of her lost time when she slept, and so took great comfort in watching others rest. She knew she could protect her friends at their most vulnerable, and believed that watching them sleep revealed secrets of their natures.

She had watched all of them sleep during their journey. Kormac was a sound sleeper, only the occasional nightmarish vision tearing him from his dreams, and Eirena did not know if the images he saw were the result of the dark days of his training he did not care to speak of, or the darker events they had lived and traveled through.

If Lyndon slept, it was restlessly, with his eyes half-closed, as if he feared the world itself would consume him the moment he shut it out. He put on a good face, even Eirena could see that, but his darkness was palpable. She pitied him, but did not know how to tell him.

As for the hunter, Alexa was a silent, deep sleeper. She made herself comfortable, closed her eyes, and that was it. Eirena had not at first actually believed the demon hunter slept, despite the weariness that hovered around her. Instead, it appeared that a lifetime of hunting and killing monsters had disciplined the hunter in ways others could not understand. Sleep was a fleeting thing, and so best to take advantage when the situation allowed.

Eirena watched Alexa sleep, and involuntarily began to count the number of scars she saw scattered across her friend's arms and shoulders. The hunter had led a miserable existence, though Eirena had seen her smile a time or two. It was a fine thing, to smile. It felt as though they did not do enough of it in this group.

She made herself comfortable and watched.

_Many nights you've watched over us. I cannot say where this path leads, I do not see the future, but I feel this small peace is temporary._

* * *

><p>Alexa kept her eyes on the wall, away from Eirena. She knew the enchantress was still awake. One did not live long in a demon hunter's profession by being careless about one's surroundings and companions. With that in mind, she had never traveled in company before the past several months. Hunting the Lords of Hell had opened the possibility of friendship, something she had not wanted since she was a small child.<p>

_Cain and Leah were lost along the way. Friendship is a dangerous road._

The hunter feared very few things in the world. Monsters of all stripes, fiery minions of Hell, winged celestials wearing their pride and contempt in their pristine robes, and, worst of all, humans who sought dominion over others with whips, blades, and words, these things were part of her daily life. She had not known another existence in years. Friendships, though, close companions, the possibility of discussing the troubles of the day, and the odd amusement, with another human being, one who did not scoff, mock, or flee, friendship was a strangely welcome thing.

She'd told Kormac shortly after rescuing him that she preferred to be alone, but she would make an exception for him. It had been a dismissive thing to say, something to push him out of her awareness. Instead, he'd shadowed her, and eventually Lyndon and Eirena joined her war on Hell.

_Friends. Strange. Even our teachers and fellow hunters weren't our friends. They were soldiers, weapons to be used. We were not individuals. We were weak, sniveling, small creatures, frightened of the things we could see that others could not fathom. Our teachers reminded us that strength came from understanding that the only limitations were our own. We learned to master our fear, turned our rage into hatred and focus, viewing our bodies and minds as our most refined weapons._

_We were never friends. We fought alongside one another, many hunters do, and we trusted each other, but we never allowed anyone to get close. Vulnerabilities are dangerous things, and opening oneself to another is a foolish risk._

_Yet, I am here, in a city I know nothing about, prepared to stand at a man's side while he seeks a truth that will hurt him as much as help him._

Disturbed by her wandering mind, she sat up in her bed.

Eirena gasped across the room. "Oh! You startled me."

Alexa nodded.

The enchantress peered at her. "What troubles you?"

The hunter smiled faintly. "You're very astute."

"You were not asleep," Eirena said and it sounded almost accusatory.

"I was not."

"Did you have nightmares?"

"No," Alexa said, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I have not had a nightmare in a very long time."

"I had terrible dreams after Bastion's Keep," Eirena said. "After what happened to poor Leah, I dreamed about her, wished I had paid closer attention to her mother. I thought, if I had watched closer, I might have saved her."

"Adria was always watching. I think Leah was doomed from the moment Tyrael fell."

"You blame Tyrael?" Eirena sounded horrified.

"I don't blame him. He is a man, and men make mistakes. They choose their own paths. Leah… Leah never had a choice."

"No," Eirena said sadly, "I do not think she did." She shuddered. "I will not sleep after this talk."

Alexa sighed. "I doubt our companions are sleeping any better."


	4. Chapter 4

Morning proved that none of them had slept. Kormac at least forced a pleasant smile and a "Good morning" past his lips. Eirena looked around the inn at all the new faces and tried to find some kindness or warmth in them, but found them all lacking. Alexa kept a hand subtly within reach of the crossbow on her hip; she did not like the way a man seated at the bar kept looking at their group.

As for Lyndon, he stood silently by the doorway, waiting for Alexa.

Kormac pulled her aside. "He was talking in his sleep last night," the templar murmured. "He is more troubled than any of us imagined. Are you certain about this?"

"Not at all. Do you see that man at the bar? The one in the red cloak?"

Kormac nodded. "What about him?"

"He has been watching us. I don't know who he is, but be on your guard, no matter where you go in the city. Do not allow Eirena out of your sight, and do not let her lose sight of you."

"No harm will come to us." Kormac folded his arms. "What of you and Lyndon?"

"For now, I will follow his lead."

"What if something should go wrong?"

Alexa sighed. "Then I suggest you be prepared to spirit yourself and Eirena to our immediate rescue."

Kormac chuckled. "I suspect we'll just get in your way. You'll have the both of you rescued without a fight."

"Would that I had your confidence."

"Would that I had my own." Kormac pressed a hand to his chest and bowed his head. "I swear to you, my friend, I will not leave either of you behind."

Alexa offered a half-smile. "You are a good man, templar."

"And you are a good friend. If you do not come back from your errand, I will place full blame at _his_ feet."

The hunter glanced at the thief, leaning against the doorframe, shoulders slouched and hair a mess. She turned back to Kormac. "Do me a favor," she said, "and don't put any more blame on him. He'll do plenty of it on his own."

Kormac followed her gaze to Lyndon. "Yes," he said, his voice very soft. "Yes, I imagine he will. We'll wait to meet you here at sundown."

* * *

><p>"We're heading to talk with a man named Douglass," Lyndon explained as they walked through the Kingsport streets. A trail of fog hugged at their boots. "He's a decent sort, least he was last I talked with him. He doesn't deal directly with the Guild, but he's an informant for everyone. He trades details for money, and sometimes the other way around."<p>

"Does he know your history with Rea?"

"Most everyone I worked with did." Lyndon didn't sound proud. "When she married Edlin, I had more than a few people asking just what mischief I had up my sleeve. Truth is, I just watched them say their words. Angry as I was with both of them, they were happy. That day at least."

"We will find her and learn her reasons."

"You keep saying that. When we've found her and I've got my answers, I expect that you'll stop."

Alexa respected his request. Silence hung between them as they walked through the cool morning air.

Lyndon grimaced, wrapped his coat tightly around his shoulders. "No, don't do that. Talk to me. Scold me. Tell me this is stupid. Just, don't _stop_ talking."

"Tell me what sorts of people we're about to deal with."

"Criminals, liars, thieves, killers. They're a reasonable lot once you get to know them."

"And Douglass is not one of them?"

"Like I said, he informs but doesn't hurt anyone."

"So you trust him?"

"As far as I could throw him, maybe, and he's not a small chap." At the raised eyebrow she directed at him, Lyndon sighed. "No, I don't trust him, but he's got no reason to lie to me, not about Edlin."

"And why not?"

"Edlin was one of the city guard, at least until everything went wrong. Douglass passed messages between us."

"He and your brother were allies?"

"They were friends. Douglass got people to look the other way for a long time. When Edlin went into the dungeons, Douglass offered to spread the word that I wanted him broken out."

"Didn't you?"

Lyndon nodded. "Yes! I'm not a monster. I was sick at what happened. Thing was, the Guild had fingers, eyes, and ears everywhere. Even if I'd wanted to get Edlin out, even if I'd had the coin to do it, no one was willing to take the risk."

"You were."

"I'm one man," Lyndon said. "What the hell can one man do against odds like that?"

"I used to ask myself the same question," Alexa replied. "When I was younger, and afraid of my own shadow."

Lyndon winced. "I see your point."

"I kill demons, Lyndon, but that doesn't mean I don't have a few secrets of my own."

"Well, by day's end, I imagine I won't have any."

"Then I'll keep what few I can for you."

He slowed their pace. "Douglass works out of that warehouse," he said, pointing to a sturdy, well-maintained building. "Let's get started."

They approached the building, and Lyndon's hand hesitated for a moment over the door. He looked at her. "Whatever happens today, I hope you don't hate me by the time we're done."

"Your secrets are safe with me."

"I'm not sure _I'm_ safe with you."

"You likely aren't," she said.

He chuckled uneasily, rapped his knuckles against the door. "You really are terrible at this honesty thing."

She shrugged. "I've never lied to you."

"No, that isn't what I… oh never mind." He knocked on the door again.

A small door opened, a woman's voice inquired who he was. Lyndon turned up his charm. "Dear lady, are you acquainted with one Trader Douglass? I'm an old friend, and I'd dearly love to see him. It's an urgent matter, I trust you might let us in?"

The door opened, and a stout woman stood behind it, her gray hair tied back in an elaborate braid, her face smooth and youthful despite her hair color. "Lyndon," she said, and he offered her a broad grin.

"Giselle! Darling, you look positively radiant. I haven't seen you in—"

"What do you want, Lyndon?"

"I was rather hoping to chat with Douglass, if he's around."

Giselle looked over Lyndon's shoulder at Alexa. "This isn't a brothel," she told Lyndon icily.

"Ah, no, you're mistaken, this is—"

Alexa stepped forward, bowing her head. "I am a friend of Lyndon's. We are here regarding a personal matter."

The older woman looked her up and down. "You're this thief's friend?"

"I am doing my best."

Giselle looked at Lyndon, a smile creasing her face. "Doing your best, eh? That sounds about right. This boy'll drive you half-mad before you decide you're better off with him around than out where someone else could use him."

Lyndon grinned. "Giselle is a very old friend. She watched out for me when I first started out, made sure I wasn't up to too much mischief."

Giselle shut the door behind them. "Why are you asking after Douglass?"

"I need to speak with him. As my friend here said, it's a personal matter."

"Everything's personal in Kingsport, Lyndon." Giselle folded her arms. "Who'd you steal from?"

"No one," Lyndon protested.

"I'm sure." Giselle looked at Alexa, whose attention was drifting around the room and the small assortment of other people; none of them looked like merchants. "You don't look like a thief. More like an assassin. Let me guess, someone hired you to kill him because he stole a young girl's virtue and nipped off with her dowry as well."

"Not precisely," Alexa said, smiling faintly, drawing her eyes back to the older woman.

"No?"

Lyndon sputtered. "Haven't you heard what happened in Tristram? In Caldeum? What about in Westmarch just recently?"

Giselle stood up straighter. "If you're talking about the undead plague, yes, we heard all about it. Had our share of those nasty creatures turning up in our streets. Thing is, the Guild took care of most of it. I suppose we stopped worrying once that happened."

"Where is Douglass?"

"He might not be too happy to see you, Lyndon."

"Why not?"

"His information has been troubling lately. People are selling all sorts of secrets. Things best left hidden or unknown. If I were you, I'd leave Kingsport before things get ugly."

Lyndon sighed. "I need to speak with him, Giselle. Please."

She shook her head. "You'll never learn. You'll keep at your petty pleasures and your games. You forget what happened the last time you—"

"It's about Edlin," Lyndon hissed. "Please. Tell Douglass I need to talk to him about Edlin."

Giselle pursed her lips. "Wait here." She disappeared into another room and returned a short time later, gesturing for them to follow. "Lyndon, please remember he's heard some terrible things lately. He might not want to hear anything about your brother."

"Believe me, I didn't want to hear it either."

Giselle left them alone, and Lyndon looked at Alexa briefly. "Thank you," he murmured. "For what you said back there, about being my friend. I think that softened her up."

"I told you I wouldn't lie to you."

He fumbled with the cuff on his sleeve. "Yes, but, but what if I ask you to, then what—"

"Lyndon. Please focus."

He frowned at her. "What's got into you?"

"There is a woman in the corner, in a red cloak. She has been watching us."

She felt him freeze. "Bloody hell," Lyndon whispered. "Sereda."

"Who is she?"

"Someone very dangerous. We should leave." Lyndon's voice trembled.

Alexa caught his sleeve. "Do not move. Do not give her any indication you have seen her. Tell me who this woman is."

"An assassin, she works for the Thieves Guild."

"Do all assassins wear red cloaks?"

"Only two that I know of, and Parrish is the other."

"There was a man wearing a red cloak at the inn this morning. He was very interested in our group."

"Damn. He saw Kormac and Eirena then."

"No doubt." Alexa looked at the direction Giselle had gone. "How much longer?"

"Soon would be better."

Lyndon fidgeted. "Damn it. Sereda's here, Parrish was at the inn. Damn, damn, damn."

"Stop moving. You're drawing attention."

He exhaled air in a long hiss. "We need to get out of here."

"I agree."

"We can't fight our way out."

"No?"

"No, not against these odds. We'll be slaughtered if we try." He looked around for an option when Giselle reappeared.

"He'll see you," the older woman said. "You don't have long. In fact, I suggest you restrict your visit to 'hello' and 'good-bye.'"

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't want to see you Lyndon," Giselle said sharply. "Seems he might know what news you're bringing his way already."

"Giselle, whatever you've heard, whatever you think it is he's told you, you have to let me explain."

Giselle stared at him for a long moment. "You are going to regret walking in that door, Lyndon," she said quietly. "I think I'm going to regret opening it even more. Come with me, the two of you, and move quickly."

* * *

><p>Giselle led them to a separate room, a cataloging room, filled with wine and brandy barrels, dried fish strung neatly on twine draped along the walls, and neatly organized merchandise ledgers. In the middle of everything was a large man seated at a desk, making notes in one of the ledgers, a money box and small coin purses scattered around his table.<p>

"Douglass?" Giselle called his name. "I've brought them."

Alexa and Lyndon looked at one another. Something was off about the old woman's tone, suspicious, her voice too high-pitched. Lyndon took a deep breath, stepped forward. "Douglass. Old friend, listen, I need to talk to you, and—"

For such a large man, the trader moved like a viper, rising out of his chair, his hand the size of Lyndon's head, reaching out and crushing his throat as he pushed the thief against the wall.

Alexa drew one of her crossbows, prepared to kill the man, but Giselle stepped in front of her, a knife in hand. "Don't push me, girl," Giselle said, her voice hard, the stout old woman showing some fire beneath her outward appearance.

Alexa admired that, but shifted her aim to the old woman's heart. Giselle stopped, slowly lowered her knife.

The hunter heard the large man make a sound of protest, audible over Lyndon's choking gasps for air.

"Release him," Alexa said firmly. "We are here on a personal business matter, and nothing more than that."

"You're so blinded by this fool that you'd believe a word he says?" the large man rasped, his voice strained and hoarse, not matching his size.

"I believe with my eyes," Alexa said. "What do you believe, old man? Lies and rumors? Or what you hold in your hands and write in your books?"

Lyndon choked, "Stop helping!"

The large man looked at Lyndon, released his grip. Lyndon collapsed to the ground, coughing, his shoulders shaking as he massaged his throat. His assailant turned to Alexa.

"And just who are you?" he asked.

"I am here for him."

"You're just here to talk?"

"Lyndon has questions."

"Put your crossbow down, and maybe we'll talk."

Alexa looked at Giselle. "Are you going to attack me if I do as he asks?"

The older woman shook her head.

Alexa dropped her arm, holstered her weapon.

The large man looked at what he could see of her hood-shadowed face. "Haven't seen your kind in this city in a very long time," he said. "Not very welcome here."

"Demons are unwelcome everywhere. Where I go, a monster is not too far ahead of me," Alexa responded.

"Huh. Self-awareness. Not many hunters have that."

"Why did you attack Lyndon?"

"Yes, Douglass," Lyndon rasped from the floor, "do tell."

"Heard some rumors," Douglass said. "Maybe I let my feelings get in the way."

"You call that 'maybe?'" Lyndon sounded hysterical.

"I wouldn't've killed you. choked you cold, yes, but not killed you. not until you explained why."

"Explained why what? What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Giselle mentioned this was about Edlin," Douglass said, resting his hand on the desk, easing down into his chair.

"It is. He's dead. I know who killed him."

Douglass looked at Lyndon. "I was told you killed him."

Lyndon paled. "You've known me since before I could pick a damned pocket. You've known my brother longer. Do you truly believe I would ever… no, no, we are not having this conversation." He struggled to his feet, looked at Alexa. "We're leaving. I'm not going to listen to this."

Alexa stopped him. "Why did you believe Lyndon was responsible?" she asked Douglass.

The old trader shook his head. "Had a reliable source tell me. I said it couldn't be so, but there was some evidence, mostly words, enough to convince me."

"Who is your source?"

"That hardly matters."

"That source could be the responsible party."

Douglass gave them a hard look. "No. That's… that's even harder to believe."

"It was Rea," Lyndon said. "Rea told you."

"She sent one of the lads, Vann. Handed me the signed letter, stamped and everything, told me what you'd done. I called her in, asked her to explain herself. She told me you'd arranged for his release, someone paid a lot of money to move him to Westmarch, and you'd done the deed. She was devastated, Lyndon. How could I not believe her?"

Lyndon pursed his lips. "Perhaps because Edlin was stabbed in the heart, and I don't use knives."

Douglass bowed his head. "I believed her."

"Edlin died here in Kingsport," Alexa said. "I've seen enough corpses to know the difference between fresh dead and not."

The trader trembled. "She swore she'd seen him not two days before she showed up here. The walking dead were starting to reappear. She said she was almost glad he was being moved, glad he wouldn't be caught in the dungeons. Then she said what you'd done, and—"

Lyndon scowled. "You believed a lie, you old bastard, and you nearly killed me for it."

"Wouldn't be the first lies your family's told me, would it?"

"She killed my brother," Lyndon snapped. "She murdered him, and made me find him like that, surrounded by thieves and killers, and left the knife with a note, just so I'd know she did it."

Douglass swallowed. "Explains a few things, I suppose." He looked at Giselle. "Sereda still out there?"

"She is."

"Damn. Parrish?"

"No. Last I heard, he was scouting the docks."

"Kormac and Eirena are still at the inn," Lyndon muttered to Alexa. "We have to leave."

"You won't get out the front," Douglass said. "You won't survive. The back door opens to the dock. Make a run for it, you just might make it."

"What? You don't want me walking into an ambush?"

"Your friend here seems decent, Lyndon. I wouldn't want honorable blood shed on your account."

Lyndon clenched his fists. "Where is Rea?"

"That I can't tell you."

"Douglass, where is my dear sister-in-law?"

"So long as Sereda and Parrish are running around, you'll never find her. You've been running a long time, Lyndon. Maybe it's time you let the chase end."

"What did they do to you?" Lyndon's voice shook. "I used to know a wily old codger, traded information, tipped folk to jobs, but never hurt anyone. Man I knew didn't run or hide. What did the Guild to you, Douglass?"

"They made me believe a lie about a boy I've known most of his life," the trader said wearily, looking straight at Lyndon. "They took my faith in one of the few friends I have. What more could they possibly take from me?"

Lyndon looked around the room. "Where's that back door?" he asked.

"Behind those crates, through the floor. Watch your footing; the ledge will catch you, and then you crawl out the other side. Run, Lyndon. The Guild's changed. They're nothing like you remember."

A heavy hand knocked on the trading room door.

Douglass looked at Giselle, who began to make her way there. To Lyndon and Alexa, the old trader said, "I wager that'll be Sereda. Run now."

They escaped just as the door opened.

* * *

><p>They made their way along the docks, hurrying back to the inn. "If Parrish was there earlier, he's probably not gone too far," Lyndon said, huffing as they ran. "If we're lucky, he's left the others be."<p>

"We're never that lucky."

"You're not wrong. Bloody Guild, bloody hell, bloody Douglass, bloody _lies_. Damn it all."

"Lyndon! Focus on the task at hand!"

"I _am_ bloody focused!"

"No, you are far from it."

Her calm almost drove him to scream. Instead, he swallowed it, and hung a sharp right, dashing up a ramp and into the main streets, his coat fluttering behind him. She was at his side moments later, and together they raced to the inn, arriving in time to see a slender man in a red cloak be thrown through the front door.

Marching through the shattered door was the furious form of Kormac, his fists bunched, and his scowling face doing nothing to alter Lyndon's opinion of him as a humorless twit. However, when Lyndon caught sight of the red-cloaked man's bloodied face, he thought Kormac might be useful in certain circumstances.

Alexa called out to the templar. "I see you didn't let him out of your sight."

Kormac snorted. "Hardly. The bastard tailed us all morning." He looked over his shoulder. "Eirena! Are you all right?"

The sorceress followed him through the doorway. "Yes. I was trying to light him on fire, but it seemed a bit foolish."

"Well, you did quite well, I think. I may have to train with you at some point. I could use some practice avoiding magic attacks."

"I would be delighted."

"Oh would you two bloody snog and get it over with," Lyndon muttered, marching over to the red-cloaked man. "Hello, Parrish," he purred, crouching on the ground.

The man lifted his bloodied head, looked at Lyndon and groaned. "Knew I should've told Sereda to do it herself."

"Brilliant plan as always, Parrish. You are so deadly, and yet so very, very stupid. I mean, really, what did you do? Attack them in the bar?"

Parrish turned an odd color of scarlet. "I… didn't think they'd fight back."

"And you are the second best assassin in the Thieves Guild. One is amazed that they survive."

"Lyndon," Alexa said. "Find out what he knows."

"Oh. Right. Parrish, old chap, you, despite having been a right bastard in attacking my friend and Kormac – he isn't my friend, I'm not too terribly cross about you attacking him—"

"Lyndon!"

"Right. Right. Parrish. Old friend." The assassin yelped as Lyndon pressed a razor-sharp arrowhead to his throat. "Where is Rea?" the thief asked, his voice steady and devoid of humor.

Parrish whimpered.

"Tell me, and I'll make it painless. Much kinder than what she did to Edlin. Did you watch when she killed him? When she murdered her own husband? Did she buy a knife with all the gold I've sent over the years? Or did she steal one from a thief and make it seem like poetic justice, a guard accused of helping thieves dying from a thief's blade?"

"I don't know," Parrish moaned. "I don't know."

Lyndon dug the point of the arrow beneath the assassin's jaw. Parrish wailed.

They were attracting a crowd, but the stone-cold gazes were directed at the assassin, not his would-be killer. Alexa wondered if perhaps the Kingsport citizens were tired of living in the shadow of human monsters. At the same time, she did not want to see Lyndon go down this path.

Eirena broke her out of her thoughts. "He is going to kill that man. Please, stop him."

"I agree," Kormac rumbled quietly. "This is not right."

Alexa caught sight of Lyndon's face. Expressionless, his eyes seemingly far away but focused on Parrish's terrified features. The assassin blubbered, crying names, words that meant nothing to the hunter, but she could see the growing line of red across his throat.

She stepped forward, touched Lyndon's shoulder. "He's told you what you wanted to hear."

"No," the thief said, "he hasn't. tell me where that murdering bitch is, Parrish, and I will kill you quickly."

Parrish sobbed. "The, the old cathedral! B-beneath! Beneath, Lyndon, please, in Akarat's name, stop!"

"Akarat's not listening," Lyndon said, and dropped the assassin to the dirt. He stood up, brushed off his trousers, and placed the bloodied arrow back in his quiver. "I'm going to the cathedral. Are you coming?"

Alexa looked at the assassin on the ground. "They've attacked our own. I won't stand by and let that go unpunished."

"No. I can't follow this course. You cannot answer rage with more rage. This is wrong," Kormac said.

"No one asked you," Lyndon said. "I've never asked you a damned thing. Stop questioning everything I do."

"You nearly murdered a man in front of me. What am I to make of you now?"

The thief spat: "The same thing you've always thought: nothing. That is what you think of me, yes? You view me as the worst of all people, because what I am doesn't line up with your pleasant little worldview. We've lived through darkness and walked through the hordes of Hell. What could I possibly care for your opinion of me?"

Kormac shook his head. "This is not you."

"You don't know me," Lyndon said. "You know nothing about me." He looked at Alexa. "I am ready to finish this. If this is what she wants, I'll take the fight to her."

"And what about what you want?" the hunter asked him.

He looked at her, the coldness returning to his eyes. "You understand revenge," he said. "She killed someone precious to me, and she used the Guild to do it. I intend to take the Guild from her. Will you help me do this?"

"Don't," Kormac said. "Don't go down this road."

"They've already tried to kill us once. One failure won't make them give up. I will take the fight to her, and I will take the Guild away from her. I didn't ask for your help, Kormac, I asked for hers." Lyndon kept his gaze on the hunter. "My friend, please. You're the only one I trust."

"Then we move on the Cathedral," Alexa said. "Wait for me a moment."

"I won't wait too long," Lyndon replied. "Make it fast."

Kormac scowled. "He's gone mad," he muttered when Lyndon was out of hearing distance. "He'll get you killed."

Eirena hesitantly nodded her head in agreement. "This will not end well. I'm afraid one of you won't come back."

Alexa inspected one of her crossbows. "There is another assassin, a woman called Sereda. she may be waiting for us. I need you two to follow at a distance. Don't come into the cathedral, but I imagine we may need you before this is over."

The templar nodded grimly. "I don't know what help I can be, but I'll be ready to heal you if you make it out."

Eirena's smile was tense. "_When_ you make it out," she corrected.

"You have more faith than I do in this plan," Kormac said.

"He said he hoped I wouldn't hate him by the day's end," Alexa said, looking at Lyndon's back.

"If you don't hate him, I will hate him enough in your stead," the templar said.

"Kormac, don't fuel this fire," Eirena pleaded.

"I am sorry, but can neither of you see the darkness surrounding him?"

"I see it," Alexa said, "but I remember when I carried that same darkness."

"What if you cannot save him?" Kormac asked, catching her arm as she moved away. "What if a man falls so far from what he is that he cannot be pulled back?"

"You believed yourself to be filled with sin, and yet you retained your humanity," Alexa said.

"That was different."

She pulled away from Kormac's grip. "I walk in darkness every hour of every day, Kormac. I have to believe that someone not consumed by vengeance can be brought back from the brink."

"And what if you _can't_ bring him back?"

"Then I will live with those consequences."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "We'll follow at a distance, my friend," he said. "And we will be waiting for you to return."


	5. Chapter 5

Lyndon did not speak as they walked. The streets were nearly empty. The display at the inn had put the city on alert, but so far no guards had attempted to slow them. Alexa did not think the guards were ignoring them; she suspected the guards simply wanted to see how this played out. They stood to gain a great deal and lose very little depending on how the day fared.

She watched Lyndon. His walk was more determined, his focus apparent in each step, his coat hanging over his shoulders, square against the shadows he was determined to fight head on. The rain drizzled around them, the fog creeping back around their limbs; even the sea was quiet, the waves only occasionally making themselves known. Kingsport was aware of what was coming, a change in the wind, and perhaps this city, more than any other, was truly alive. It had a beating heart in the Guild, but a heart that proved only so strong as its vessels, and so far, Alexa had already seen one weak vein. Parrish would not interfere, but the Guild was not foolish.

_This is an organization where all members are eyes and ears, hands and feet, weapons and shields. The Guild will not fall easily. There is no room for error in this._

She stopped.

Lyndon kept going for several steps until he turned to face her. "Aren't you coming?"

"I need to know something."

He sighed. "Oh bloody hell, not you too."

"Lyndon. This is not some pocket you're picking, not some farmer's daughter you're dashing off with for an evening. You are marching on the Kingsport Thieves Guild. What will you do once you're inside?"

"With you at my back? Kill every bastard in my way most likely." He smiled, baring his teeth. "And when I find Rea, I'm going to ask her a few very simple questions. The answers I get will determine my course from there."

She recognized the look in his eye, that focus, the singular goal to the exclusion of all others: vengeance. She could relate to the desire, the need, the pleasure of driving an arrow into the skull of the thing she wanted dead more than any other. She could remember the first few kills vividly, and after that, they blurred. Until Maghda and Belial, she'd barely considered identifying the rotting corpses she left in her wake. Until she'd watched Diablo return, consume Leah and rise up to destroy the High Heavens, she had never viewed the losses as anything other than necessary casualties in an unending war.

_They asked me if I wanted to fight demons and I said 'yes.'_

She looked at Lyndon. "If you walk this path," she said, "understand that it's not an easy one."

"There is no 'easy,'" Lyndon said. "Not anymore. There hasn't been 'easy' in a very long time, not for me, and I highly doubt for you."

"I avenged my family, Lyndon. I put the monsters down."

His laughter startled her, not with its presence, but with its malice, dancing on the edge of hearing. "You think I'm doing this for Edlin?"

"Aren't you?"

"At first, yes, yes, but now they've targeted other people, my friends, even Kormac, and I'm not going to stand for that." Lyndon held out a hand to her. "If you walk with me, if you've got my back, then I can commit one last utterly selfish act, and tear the bloody Guild down."

"And what happens after?"

"After?" Lyndon's determined mask slipped for a moment, and Alexa saw the uncertainty, the fear, dwelling beneath.

"Yes, after."

"I'm more of a 'here and now' fellow," Lyndon said. "After, I don't know, we can have a drink, a proper drink, toast the end of our wars."

"My war will never end, Lyndon."

"Well, now you're just being pessimistic. All wars end eventually, even yours."

"And what about you?"

He looked over his shoulder. "The cathedral is around that corner and down the street. There's a great big garden in front of it. When I was a boy, it was filled with red and white roses. By the time I left for Tristram, all those roses were black, and the thorns were venomous."

"Your point?"

"The point is that place had hope once, but it faded away just like everything else I never had to steal." He laughed softly, resigned. "I suppose this was always going to be my war. I just never imagined it would really happen. Didn't think I'd have a friend along for the trek, either."

She smiled.

He returned it, but it was sad, final.

"You don't think we'll come back."

"Nonsense!" he declared. "I said we'd have a proper drink. I expect you to hold me to that."

She couldn't make that promise, not with the life she'd lived. Lyndon's sad smile shifted to one closer to the expression he'd worn when they'd first met. He flexed his fingers of his still-outstretched hand. "Come on, girl," he said. "We're on the cusp of one of the greatest battles this world will whisper about for decades to come, the day two archers took on the Kingsport Thieves Guild and lived to tell the tale. Don't you want in on that story?"

"I killed Diablo and Malthael," Alexa reminded him.

"Yes, but a thief had to earn his powers, no one else gave them to him by right of creation. So it takes another self-taught master to take a thief down."

"It's all about choices," she murmured.

He arched an eyebrow. "Something I should know?"

"I suspect you already know it."

He folded his arms. "You're still thinking about what that angel said, aren't you? That I'm wrapped up in selfish needs and I'm beyond saving? He's not wrong, but you're not stupid."

"You know what others think of you and you don't care. I've known that since we met. Why are you telling me this now?"

Lyndon shrugged a shoulder. "I could have made a hundred decisions by this point that would have betrayed all of you, left me ahead of the game or dead, and left you abandoned. So why do you suppose I haven't? Because there are people in the world that think they've got everybody else figured out, but do you know what I _have_ figured out? Myself. I know myself better than anyone. I earned every skill and ability I have. So did you. We know who we are."

"I promised to keep your secrets," she said.

"Like I said earlier, I hope you don't hate me by the end."

She pulled one of her crossbows from her belt, held it in front of her, examining the sight. "Hate is a complicated thing. Sometimes it's just a word that stands for a feeling without a name."

He tilted his head. "Like vengeance?"

"Revenge is a bitter food, Lyndon."

"I can live on it for a little while longer."

He started walking away.

She did not let him wait too long for her to catch up. She had heard the conviction in his voice. It would be enough to keep her at his side for a bit longer. After that, she would consider what remained.

* * *

><p>The cathedral garden was as Lyndon described: black roses, velvet petals against diamond-sharp thorns, gleaming with poison. The cathedral doors were shut, but three guards stood outside, waiting for them.<p>

One of the guards stepped forward. "Lyndon."

"Trask. I thought you'd have fled by now."

"We're supposed to stop you from going in."

"I can see that." Lyndon twirled an arrow in his hand. "What are you waiting for?"

Trask looked at his hands. "Truth is, the last several months have been strange in the Guild. This isn't what I joined up for, the killing and the secrets. I joined to take what I wanted without consequence. People's lives weren't something I wanted, and I certainly don't like the results."

Lyndon listened. "Make it quick, Trask."

"The boys and I were just chatting while we waited. We're thinking, maybe you got past us, gave us the slip. Somehow you got inside, and we just happened to miss you. Maybe we saw your pretty friend there, figured out what she was, and decided we didn't have the guts to face either of you."

"They're stalling," Alexa said.

"My word, I'm not," Trask said, holding up his hands. "Guild's gone too far. It's got a target painted on its back, and I'm not stupid enough to wait around for whatever's going down. She took the wrong path, made the bad call. We shouldn't have done it. truth is, we were scared, and she thought you'd come back for her. I don't think she was ready for what you're bringing."

"And what do you think I'm bringing, Trask?"

The guard folded his arms. "I've seen some evil things in my time, Lyndon, but you've got a look about you, like you've seen things I don't ever want to imagine. Looks like you've walked through Hell and come out the other side. I don't think she's ready for you."

"Is 'she' Rea?" Alexa asked.

"Yes. Not worth my time to lie," Trask said. "Yes, Rea's the one giving orders, she's the one in charge. She's got a room full of guards, assassins, and spies. You two might walk in alive, but I don't know if you'll get out."

"Guess that's for us to find out," Lyndon said. "Open the doors, Trask. We're conveniently missing your throats with our bows as we 'sneak' on by."

Trask stepped aside and gave his men a brief nod. The other two men pushed the heavy cathedral doors open, allowing Lyndon and Alexa through.

Trask caught Lyndon's sleeve as he walked by. Lyndon gave him a warning look.

"I do this," Trask said, "you swear you will never hunt me, never try to find me, and you'll consider us even on all accounts because I'm helping you avenge your brother."

"You're helping me avenge Edlin," Lyndon agreed, "but consider the accounts settled when I've dealt with the rest of the Guild."

The two men holding the doors looked panicked.

Trask and Lyndon locked gazes for several moments. Finally, Trask held out his hand for Lyndon to shake; the archer did so. Trask frowned as he released Lyndon's hand. "Quite a grip you've got there, Lyndon. Don't remember you being so tough."

Lyndon broke eye contact and walked into the cathedral. "We're through, Trask," he said. "Don't be here when we come out."

As the three men carefully closed the heavy doors behind them, Alexa said softly, "You said you weren't doing this for Edlin."

"I'm not," Lyndon said.

"And you gave that man your word."

"His account is settled," Lyndon said quietly, and Alexa heard a whimpering moan on the other side of the door. She heard the other two men wail and distantly heard their feet pattering on the street as they fled. She looked at Lyndon. He gave her a grim look. "Never trust a thief."

"Yet here I am with you."

"Statement holds true for you, too."

"You poisoned him."

"He would've killed us. I removed the opportunity."

She did not recognize the man standing beside her, the coldness in his voice, the casual dismissal of his victim. For a moment, she wondered if the Lyndon she'd known had died back in Westmarch, or perhaps earlier when he had bled Parrish. The man with her was a shadow of the man she'd found taunting thieves so many months ago.

For the briefest of moments, she remembered Kormac's warning, and her own belief:

_A man chooses to fall. I have to believe I can bring him back._

"We should move quickly and quietly," Lyndon said. "No telling how many are lying in wait."

Alexa watched him walk ahead of her. She wanted to reach out, to tell him _no_, _come back, let's go back, do this a different way_, but she knew those words would fall on deaf ears. He heard nothing but the need for revenge, and she could not pretend she did not know that seductive song.

* * *

><p>They walked for a short time, through dim corridors devoid of guards and any sign of life, until they came upon a narrow room filled with coins, precious stones, elegant armored pieces, weapons of the finest quality, and dozens of shields. A flail hung conspicuously on the wall.<p>

"The treasure room," Lyndon said. "Whenever we returned from jobs, we left our coin here, an offering to the guild. They divided it up later, but always kept the majority for themselves. Hard to make a living when you only get ten percent of a job's worth."

They moved through, the stench of gold lingering around them.

There was a second room, this one crammed full of neatly arranged weaponry, an assortment of daggers, swords, bows, and a familiar-looking crossbow, sitting in a particularly glaring place, as if placed there to taunt Alexa personally.

She did not like the weapon room.

Lyndon stopped. "We can't be this lucky," he muttered.

"What is this place?"

"After leaving our coin, we had to leave our weapons too. No fighting in the guild hall, not with blades or bows. Fists were how we settled scores. This has all the markings of a trap."

She did not disagree.

Lyndon raised a hand, drawing her attention. "Do you hear that?"

"The silence?"

"Thieves are a rambunctious lot. It's like a tomb in here."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking they're waiting in the main hall. Probably readying an ambush."

Alexa inspected one of the swords. She ran her fingertip along the blade; it came away covered in thick silvery dust. "Lyndon, I don't think anyone has been here in months, possibly longer. Look at these weapons."

He looked around the room. "Any other time, I'd suggest you pick the finest one you could see and keep it. Right now, I'm grateful you're wearing gloves."

She saw an oily film on the now-dust-free blade. "Poison."

"Something is wrong here," Lyndon muttered. "Beyond wrong."

"I suggest we find our answers and leave."

"No arguments. I feel like I'm halfway to the grave just standing in here."

She followed Lyndon out of the room and into a wide hall, leading to a set of double doors at the far end. Torches in the wall sconces burned dully, the oil-soaked rags offering their last few precious drops of fuel. Dust clung to every surface, clouds of delicate cobwebs fluttered against the walls and pillars.

"No one has been here in a very long time," Alexa repeated. Still, she readied her weapons, a bolt secure in each crossbow. Lyndon followed suit, an arrow held firmly between his fingers, his bow gripped in hand.

"Someone is here," he said.

"Do you hear something?"

"No, but the doors down there are open a crack. I can see light. Someone is here."

They moved carefully, stepping softly with each footfall. Neither were strangers to traps, but this felt wrong. Everything about this place felt horribly wrong.

Alexa remembered the last time she had felt this kind of foulness, this filth that seemed to stroke its fingertips across weapons and armored flesh.

_The larder beneath Bastion's Keep, that was where Ghorm waited for us. He was an abomination, but his presence is here, his influence. A gluttony for power, for ownership. Who is here and what are they after?_

Lyndon reached the doors first. He carefully eased them open, and Alexa stepped behind him onto a short staircase landing. The stairs descended down into an abandoned worship room.

The room was decorated with elaborate scarves and banners, bright colors, some purposely distressed and torn, others elaborately stitched with sigils and patterns. No dust or filth disturbed them. Tables and chairs sat neatly arranged, equally clean and spotless, while where the altar should have been, a small table and a high-backed chair waited.

Seated in the chair was a woman, dressed in white trousers and shirt, a black leather vest with tails tailored to her figure. Her legs were crossed at the knee, and she smiled as Lyndon and Alexa walked down the stairs into the room.

"Welcome," the woman said. "I wasn't sure you'd ever arrive."

"Rea," Lyndon said.

His voice carried no emotion.

Alexa watched as another woman appeared, dressed in a red cloak. She recognized her as Sereda, the assassin, partner to Parrish, the one they'd avoided at Douglass' warehouse.

Lyndon saw her too. "Your partner didn't turn out so well," he called to Sereda. "I left him bleeding on the cobbles. Did you get to him in time?"

Sereda folded her arms. "I'll repay you for that several times over, Lyndon."

"Now, now," Rea said, holding up her hands as if dismissing two arguing children. "Parrish knew what he was getting involved with, Sereda. If he wasn't ready for the job, he shouldn't have agreed to do it. He had his chance and he failed. We'll leave it at that."

"He was my brother."

"I had a brother, too," Lyndon said, locking eyes with Rea. "One you claimed to love more than me. One you married. One you murdered."

Rea smiled.

"So you admit it?" Lyndon asked.

"Edlin long ago outlived his usefulness."

"And what was his use, Rea?"

"Making a good name for himself, for the Guild. You tipping him off; him ducking in to make arrests and claim bounties. It was a good business, an excellent arrangement, but then someone got sloppy. He stopped being useful the moment his fellows locked him up and forgot about him."

"I sent you money to help."

"And you _were_ helpful, Lyndon, but all you could see was your brother. All you saw was a light at the tunnel's end. I saw a squandered opportunity."

Lyndon looked at Alexa. "I don't understand," he said, but the question was directed at both women.

"Money sent to the guards is coin not sent to the Guild. The Guild is owed for your part in this, and it's owed for Edlin's failure."

"It was my fault, not his," Lyndon argued. "Don't tell me you killed your husband for money. Don't say those words to me. Don't tell me you murdered my brother over something like that."

Rea leaned forward in her chair. "I killed your brother because during our last visit he asked me why the payments had stopped. He asked me why you'd abandoned him. I told him I didn't know, but I'd be sure to find out."

"I never abandoned him! I sent you coin. I sent you every gold piece I had. I did that for you!"

"No!" Rea stood up. "You did that for _Edlin_. Nothing was for me. You did it for him. You were so jealous of him, but you would have done _anything_ for him. What of me, Lyndon? What was I to do while my husband languished in prison and you flitted about the world, collecting diamonds and whores? Become a whore myself? Or, perhaps I looke at the world I lived in and decided that the world owed me a favor or two."

Lyndon's hands shook.

Alexa watched as the woman in white strolled along the altar, heading for another short staircase, her boots landing feather-soft on the stone floor. "Really, Lyndon, I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done in my shoes. I saw an opportunity. I seized it."

"You killed Edlin."

"He was in the way, Lyndon. He was always in the way. He wanted to save his little brother from a life of crime; you wanted to save him from a life of thankless monotony. You tried to impress me with your wiles; he impressed me with his devotion. So devoted that even in the end, he started to wonder if he'd been wrong about you all this time. He asked questions. I hate questions, Lyndon, because they only lead to tragedy."

"Why?"

"The Guild has been teetering on the brink for months, ever since those rumblings from Tristram and Caldeum. When we heard that Emperor Hakan was dead, and some demon took his place, well, I decided it was time I took some matters into my own hands. The guards looked the other way, and I did what was necessary."

"You murdered my brother," Lyndon said.

"It wasn't personal," Rea replied.

Lyndon moved to aim his bow.

"I wouldn't do that!" Sereda barked, producing a bow of her own, aiming it straight at him.

Rea smiled, a full-lipped grin.

Alexa and Lyndon both froze at the sounds of a dozen bow-strings pulling taut above them. Glancing up, they saw men in the shadows, bows aimed, ready to fire.

Rea held out her hands. "And here we come to it, the last of the Guild, the only ones worthy of membership. Assassins and thieves go together like silk and steel, and it's only fitting this little vendetta ends here. If you push this, we'll push back. The guards won't stop us."

"There are only fourteen of you," Lyndon said stubbornly. "If you're all that's left, we can take you."

Rea laughed. "And how long do you really think you'll last, Lyndon? You're no warrior, no fighter. you're a sneak-thief, a manipulator, a boy caught up in a man's fantasy world. How long do you think you'll last against my men?"

"That isn't necessary." Alexa looked at Rea. "I think Lyndon has his answers. We're walking out of here."

Rea smiled. "You think so, do you?"

"You have your answers," Alexa said to Lyndon. "We're done."

"We were never walking out of here," he responded. "We're not leaving until they're all dead."

"Lyndon."

"They all die."

The assassin on the altar shouted at him. "Make one move, Lyndon, and my arrow finds your heart."

"You'll have to find me first," Lyndon replied, and was already moving away from his location as he fired at one of the thieves above. The arrow found its mark, and with a gurgled breath the man died in the shadows.

Rea almost looked impressed. "I see you've learned a few tricks from your friend there, Lyndon."

"More than a few," Lyndon said, and shot another thief.

The arrows began to fly, ten bows still strung above them.

Alexa vaulted backwards, aiming her crossbows at the torches on the walls, firing bolts to explode the flames up, illuminating their assailants. Lyndon placed each shot carefully, killing two more men. Alexa killed two opposite Lyndon's position, and they stood back to back, killing the men who wanted to see them dead. When a dozen bows had fallen silent, the only ones who remained were Rea and Sereda.

The assassin gawked.

Rea smiled. "I could use a bow like that at my back," she said to Alexa.

"She's at _my_ back," Lyndon snapped.

Rea started to move from the altar, toward another door, making her escape.

"No you don't," Lyndon breathed, and started to run after her.

Alexa looked at the altar, but Sereda was gone. "Lyndon, wait!"

He didn't hear her, and as he ran, he stumbled over a chair, scrambled back to his feet, just as an arrow buried itself in his right shoulder.

"Lyndon!"

He struggled up, kept moving.

A second arrow appeared beneath the first, but he did not fall. He stayed on his feet, and chased after Rea, through the darkened doorway. A third arrow missed him, punching into the wall.

Soon after, the torches in the room burned out, except for one just outside the exit.

Alexa was left alone with the assassin.


	6. Chapter 6

For the briefest of moments, Alexa felt terror unremembered since childhood. She hadn't been afraid of the dark since after her sister's death; losing her closest friend to nightmares had broken her own fears. The cost for such a gift had been high, and she had never forgotten the price.

She took a deep breath, and recalled her life, her reality, what she was: she was at home among shadows, at ease in darkness, alive within its embrace. She opened her eyes, relaxed, calm.

Other people were afraid of what lurked where they could not see.

The demon hunter saw the darkness as sanctuary.

The assassin was alone with _her _now.

Alexa smiled, and smoothly moved between the shadows, seeking her prey.

_This one is dangerous, and she has attempted to kill my friend. That crime is never unpunished, beast or human, not while I draw breath._

She heard the assassin's footsteps above her.

Alexa remained below. She did not know Sereda, had no interest in knowing the woman, but she recognized raw skill when she saw it. A fellow master of the bow, one who had earned each moment of her talent. It was talent to be respected, honored, a mutual understanding of an elegant weapon, honed to the finest edge.

It was a pity to waste it, but the assassin squandered her skills on murder.

_Adria abused her magic. She embraced evil and sacrificed her daughter. She could have been more, she could have seen the world as worth saving. Instead, she killed her own blood. Leah's death was avenged, and Adria died for her crime._

_This assassin is not so different._

The assassin's voice echoed in the room: "Where are you, hunter? Your shadows can't save you."

Alexa frowned, shaking her head.

_Foolish. Never speak to your prey._

_Not too far ahead of me, still above, but I know where you are._

Folded in her cloak, she slipped around the room, following the sound of Sereda's breathing. The assassin's feet scrambled across stone, and she gave a loud gasp, loosing an arrow into the far wall, well away from Alexa's position.

The hunter was no longer impressed.

_You're afraid. Fear makes you foolish. Fear is a stranger to me._

"Where are you?" Sereda whispered, too loudly.

Alexa lifted her head; saw the outlying wisp of Sereda's cloak.

Silently, Alexa slipped back from her position, aimed a crossbow at center mass.

Two arrows thudded into the wall behind her.

"Where _are_ you?" Sereda shrieked.

_Your fear betrays you._

Alexa fired a single bolt.

Sereda's body tumbled to the ground ahead of her. Alexa did not stop to examine her prey. She did not care for the assassin's secrets. She cared only to see this done. It had gone on too long.

She walked to the rapidly fading torchlight.

She smelled blood.

_Lyndon, I'm right behind you. _

* * *

><p>Lyndon reached for the wall to steady himself, but the pain almost overwhelmed him. His right arm was useless; the barbed arrowheads extended out from his chest, the little metal teeth shredding his flesh and muscle to ribbons. The wounds were bad, and he was growing tired.<p>

_Have to catch her. Can't let Rea escape. If she escapes, this was a worthless cause. _

_It can't end like this. Edlin died for this. He can't have died for nothing._

He heard movement ahead, far down the long hallway.

Bracing himself, he tugged a throwing knife from his belt, gripped it in his left hand.

_You died for this, brother. You shouldn't have died for this._

He balanced the blade, hurled it as hard as he could. He smiled when he heard it strike flesh and a shriek of pain rewarded his efforts.

He continued along the path, his shirt and the right side of his coat heavy with blood. He didn't care. This ended here, and if he didn't walk out, at least his friend would. She'd stood at his side, done what she could, had helped him eliminate the Guild remnants.

_A better friend I haven't had in a long time._

_Pity we won't have that drink._

The hallway suddenly exploded with light, a seam of oil igniting in the wall. Lyndon shouted, temporarily blinded, ducking his head, just as a body rushed into him, knocking him to the ground. The impact jarred his wounds, snapped one of the arrow shafts close to his flesh, and he screamed, loud enough to echo off the walls.

As the spots faded from his eyes, he saw Rea's enraged face above him.

"I'll kill you," she promised, his throwing knife in her hand, her shirt a bloody mess from the wound. "Thief. Heartbreaker. Murderer. Whatever you are. You won't kill me. I won't let you."

He looked in her face for some sign of the woman he'd known all those years ago, the woman he'd loved.

He didn't see her; that woman was long gone, lost to time and memory. Instead of the rage he'd been nursing ever since he'd found her knife on Edlin's body, instead of that righteous anger, all he could find for her was sadness.

_And here I was, thinking I'd kill you. Looks like you died a long time ago._

_I wonder if we're both dead in our ways. You died when you killed Edlin. I died when I found him._

_We killed those small parts of ourselves that bound us together. I suppose I've had my revenge, but now I wish I'd tried a different way._

He didn't want Rea to die. He didn't want to kill her. As angry as he'd been, as much as he mourned Edlin, he did not want to kill Rea. He wanted her to suffer, to lose everything, to be alone and unloved, but he did not want her dead.

Not even after everything she'd said, all the horrible things she'd said about his brother, the reality of what she was, none of that deserved death.

_I've not fallen so far that I cannot see a way out._

He realized then that's what his friend had meant. "_Men choose to fall."_ He'd made a choice, a choice to run after Rea, consumed by his rage, ready to deliver some form of justice, but Sereda's arrows had taken that opportunity away.

He'd inflicted pain, but that pain was about to come back to him, with his own knife.

He looked into Rea's face, the promise of death in her eyes.

_I'm sorry, Rea, for everything I did. I'm sorry for you, too. I'm sorry it came to this._

He hoped she made it quick, and he hoped his friend wouldn't find him in too bad a state. He was sorry he wouldn't see her again, wouldn't talk with her; wouldn't enjoy the company of her silence, her stillness. He was sorry they wouldn't share a meal or a drink again, wouldn't share stories, or adventures.

_Thank you,_ he thought, as Rea brought the knife down, _thank you for bringing a little warmth into my life._

It occurred to him that he'd never said her name.

_Ah, what's it matter? Better a dead thief than a living liar._

He readied himself to meet his brother.

* * *

><p>Alexa closed her eyes and buried her face in her hood when she saw the rush of light coming her way. She heard the screams – man or woman, it didn't matter – the struggles, and began to run, a single crossbow in hand, ready to kill.<p>

_Lyndon. I'm sorry. If you've fallen this far, I'll do what I must._

_I will live with it, but I will do what I must._

She rounded the corner in time to see Rea lifting the knife for a second impact, a long stream of Lyndon's blood hanging in the air.

Alexa lifted her crossbow, fired, watched the bolt tear through Rea's hand, forcing her to drop the knife, sending her tumbling away from Lyndon. Alexa whipped her second crossbow from her belt, aimed at the Guild leader. "If you move again, I will kill you," Alexa warned her. "I have already killed your assassin. If my friend is dead, I will not hesitate to avenge him."

"I hope he's dead," Rea hissed. "I've hoped that for years. About time his sins catch up with him."

"Seems you both have some sins to atone for."

"What would you know of atonement?" Rea snarled. "You hunt monsters. You bleed them dry. You beat them until they scream for mercy, and you grant them no such thing. You hurt and you hate, and what do you get for it? A world that sees you as no better than the beasts you kill day after day."

"I know myself," Alexa said, crouching over Lyndon.

"Is that all you need in this life?" Rea laughed. "And what about who _else_ you know? Hm? What about all the others in your life? So you know yourself, well done. What about all the rest? Do you really know _anyone_, hunter? Do you really ever know another person well enough to judge them or save them?"

Alexa ignored the other woman. She examined Lyndon's wounds in the firelight as best she could. He groaned softly, his eyes cloudy with pain when they opened. "Bloody hell," he murmured. "You made it."

"Can you stand?"

"Might do," he mumbled.

She helped him sit up, got her free shoulder beneath his left arm, helped him stand.

"She's still alive?" Lyndon asked wearily.

"Rea is alive, Lyndon." Alexa looked at the bloodied Guild leader. "Your guild is gone," she told her. "I'm not sure how much time you have left."

Rea spat. "Don't do me any favors. Kill me. It's what you came here for."

Alexa looked to Lyndon, dreading his answer, but he shook his head, wincing. "No. She's done."

"You don't want her dead?"

"No. Not anymore." He leaned against Alexa. "There's nothing left to kill, and it won't bring Edlin back."

Rea stared at him, the flickering fire-seam revealing a confused woman, no longer the would-be murderer from moments ago. She looked lost.

"Nothing left to kill," Lyndon repeated, and his legs buckled.

Alexa caught him. "Come on. We're almost done."

"Not sure I'm feeling it." He struggled to keep his footing.

"Lyndon, it's one foot in front of the other. Even you can do this."

They eased down the passageway, never turning their backs on Rea until she was out of sight. Alexa kept waiting for the other woman to run after them, but she never heard movement. Only when they were out of the passage, easing into the darkness of the main hall, as Lyndon cursed the lack of light, and Alexa's eyes adjusted to shadow, did she hear the echoes.

Rea was crying.

Alexa recalled her earlier impressions, about a demon like Ghorm being responsible for what had happened here. She did not think that was the case, now. No, it was something subtler, more terrible than a demon: one person's soul-deep pain against the entire world.

Demons made more sense than people. Monsters were born into their wickedness.

_People choose to fall._

She listened to Lyndon's haggard breathing.

_He did not choose that path._

"A few more steps, my friend," she said softly, guiding him through the dark.

She helped him up the stairs, eased through the weapon and coin rooms, down the twisted, turning passageway to the cathedral's massive double doors.

"More than a few," Lyndon whispered.

She helped him to the ground, sat him against the wall. "I am right here. I'm not going far."

She pushed on one of the doors, forcing her shoulder into it, shoving it open as far as she could, making enough room for them to escape. She crouched, got him back on his feet. He protested with a curse and a cough.

Droplets splattered her face. She smelled blood.

"You'll be safe soon," she told him. "You'll be all right."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Lyndon scolded, his voice weak.

She helped him into the courtyard. To her relief, Kormac and Eirena were waiting there, safe and secure. She saw Trask's body on the ground nearby; his fellow thieves were nowhere to be seen.

_I've had enough killing for one day._

"It's about time," Kormac said, a half-formed grin creasing his face. "We were discussing our odds of success if we went in after you."

"Better you didn't, Kormac," Lyndon groaned. "You'd've just gotten in my way."

Eirena raised her hands to her mouth. "Lyndon?" she called his name, and it hurt Alexa's ears to hear such fear in the enchantress's voice.

Kormac's expression shifted from cocky to alarmed. "Gods, Lyndon, what've you done to yourself?"

Lyndon leaned heavily against Alexa. "Think I'm spent," he told her, sagging in her arms.

She controlled her collapse, dropping to the ground with him, catching his body as all his strength faded. She looked at Kormac. "Those arrowheads are barbed," she told the templar. "You will need to break the shaft at his back. He's also been stabbed."

Kormac cracked his knuckles and pulled a dagger from his belt. He guided Alexa's hands, shifted Lyndon so he could see his back, and cut the arrow shafts as close to the thief's coat as he could. One was partially broken close to the entry point. Kormac grimaced at the gruesome sight. "Eirena, hold his shoulder steady. This will probably hurt. Do let me know if any guards start coming our way," he added to Alexa.

"None followed you?" she asked as Eirena knelt beside her; the enchantress pressed one hand against Lyndon's shoulder, pulling his coat away from his chest with her other.

Kormac shook his head. "None so far. What sort of mess did you two leave behind you in there?"

"A bloody one."

"Charming. And how did this happen?"

Alexa responded without thinking: "He saved my life."

The templar gave her a sharp look, searching her hooded face for any sign of a lie. Finding nothing, he returned to his task, gently pulling the barbed ends out of Lyndon's body. The thief's eyes were half-open; if he felt discomfort from the arrow's removal, he did not show it.

"Is he going to be all right?" Eirena asked. She could feel the pain radiating off of Lyndon, and the conflicted emotions Kormac wrestled with. "You said you would heal him. Can you still do that?"

"He might be. Let's see how good I am at this." Kormac concentrated, willing his understanding of the templar's arts into a spell that knit flesh and bone together, mended bad blood, cured sickness, and pushed death away. He guided the spell into Lyndon's body, his hands covered in the other man's blood, focused on his wounds, ordered them to close, because his will was stronger than the pain.

Templars were instruments of will; they did not bow before weakness, and they faced their enemies with strength, righteousness, and carefully controlled fury. Kormac reminded himself of that truth as he healed the thief.

When he'd done what he could, his shoulders slumped, as his body sought to replenish itself. A templar might have a strong will, but even he could be wearied by giving something to another. Whatever his feelings, Kormac pushed them aside; Lyndon had fought with him, had battled against the Burning Hells with all of them. Whatever he'd risked in that cathedral, he'd come out, and the hunter was still with him, unscathed. That counted for something in Kormac's mind.

"He needs a proper healer now," the templar said. He pressed his hand against Lyndon's forehead, nudging a weaker spell through him, a protection aura.

The thief's eyes slowly opened, blearily looked at Kormac. "Not my ideal waking moment," Lyndon groaned.

"Well," Kormac said dryly, "I think he'll be fine."

Lyndon turned his attention to Alexa. "You're all right?"

"I'm fine."

"We did it," he said. "We're alive."

"You asked me to hold you to that drink."

Lyndon smiled, looked about to say more, but his eyes rolled back in his head, his body going limp in her arms. Alexa looked at Kormac. "Would you help me?"

The templar nodded and slipped his arms beneath Lyndon's body, lifting him. "There's a ship heading back to Westmarch soon. If we're lucky, we can catch it and be out of here."

"Lead the way," Alexa said.

Kormac slowly started walking ahead.

Eirena helped Alexa up. "Are you certain you're all right?" she asked.

Alexa nodded. They started following Kormac.

"I felt darkness outside of that place," Eirena said. "Cold, unfeeling, corrupted. It was like all the hope and joy had been drained from the stones. That place was holy once, but it's not been that way in a very long time." She glanced at Alexa. "Were there demons?" she asked.

Alexa shook her head. "None but the ones in human hearts."

"Are human hearts any less frightening?"

"No," the hunter said. "They leave scars on the soul."

"I don't understand."

"Demons and devils are easy to kill; their natures are known. They seek to destroy us because they hate us. It's in their nature."

"What about humans?"

"I can't know the human heart. I'm not sure I ever could."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I'm more afraid of humans than I ever will be of Hell."


	7. Epilogue

Lyndon opened his eyes to a stone room, warmth emanating from a nearby fireplace. Green banners adorned the walls; tables stacked with bandages and healing potions and tonics sat carefully arranged against the walls. He was clearly not in Kingsport anymore, not with all that stone in the walls.

A brief inspection revealed bandages wrapped around his upper right chest and shoulder, neatly dressed, secure and clean. There was dull pain beneath the wraps, but he did not feel sick or smell infection.

_I'm alive._

He hadn't had much of a plan for waking up. The last thing he recalled clearly was the oil seam lighting up, and then pain in his chest. The aftermath was a blur.

He slowly propped himself up on his elbows, looking around for some sign of life.

He heard soft snoring; saw Kormac sitting in a nearby chair, head bowed, sound asleep. The templar's shield and a bright, shiny new spear sat propped against the wall.

Lyndon had a flash of memory, the templar healing him, saving his life.

_He'll never let me live that one down._

He watched the templar for a moment. Kormac shifted briefly, adjusted the fold of his arms, but never woke.

Lyndon shook his head. _Good old Kormac. Maybe you aren't such a helmet-head after all._

Lyndon carefully sat up, drawing the blanket up around his shoulders. He slowly swung his legs over the bed, pressed his feet against the cold stone floor. He had no idea where his boots were, and the clothes he wore fit but clearly weren't to his tastes. No matter. He felt strong enough to stand, and stubbornly fought the screaming weakness in his legs.

He limped over to Kormac, rested a hand on the sleeping man's shoulder for a moment. "Thanks," Lyndon murmured, certain he wasn't heard. Best not to give the other man a big head; he was impossible enough already.

Lyndon steadied his balance and wrapped the blanket around his upper body, easing toward the wall, tottering carefully out of the room. As he emerged, he saw a handful of soldiers and one imposing former angel. Tyrael eyed him across the room, and Lyndon gave him as polite a nod as he could manage. It hurt to move.

He wondered where his other friends might be, and started to shuffle around the perimeter of the room, roughly remembering where the women's quarters were in the old Westmarch castle. Tyrael was at his side a moment later, and Lyndon was ever-so-grateful for the wall to lean into, because the angel almost made his heart stop. "Yes?" Lyndon gritted.

"You survived your errand," the angel said.

"Wonderfully observant of you, yes." Lyndon's voice sound hoarse and awkward, even to his own ears. He swallowed. "What do you want?"

"The nephalem told me what happened in Kingsport. She says you saved her life. It seems I misjudged you and your intent. I apologize."

Lyndon took longer than the angel liked but he finally said, "Accepted."

"Lyndon! You're awake." Eirena's cheerful voice caught their attention.

The angel bowed his head in greeting and stepped away, returning to his new Horadrim charges.

Eirena smiled at Lyndon. "It's good to see you up. We were worried."

"We're back in Westmarch, obviously. How did we get here? When?"

"We took a ship, not long after you left the cathedral. We've been back for three days now." Eirena looked him up and down. "You should still be in bed. Kormac and the castle healer have been working to aid you. You'll undo all their work."

"Kormac's asleep in the infirmary. Looks like he needed it."

Eirena nodded. "We talked on the journey back from Kingsport. We talked about many things, but we talked about his anger toward you, about what you did and what you meant to do. When we heard what the guild leader said to you, what she did to your brother, Kormac decided he'd been wrong."

"What of our hunter friend? Is she all right?"

"She is asleep. One of the Horadrim made her a strong tea last night, to help her sleep. She'd been awake since we returned. She would not leave your side, not until she was sure you would recover."

Lyndon frowned. "She shouldn't have done that."

"We were all worried," Eirena said. "She said something I am not sure I understand, but she said it was why she would not leave."

"What did she say?"

"She said 'men choose to fall.' She said there was a reckoning, for you both. I don't understand what that means. She did nothing wrong, and you did what you set out to do." Eirena peered at him, as if searching his face for an answer. "Do you know what she meant?"

"No," Lyndon lied, straightening somewhat and pushing away from the wall. "Would you take me to her? I'd like to sit with her awhile."

Eirena caught the unspoken addendum '_alone'_ in his voice. She led him away from the main hall to a small room set aside with two beds. The enchantress's books lay on one, while on the other, a demon hunter lay fast asleep. She was stripped to corset and trousers; her boots cast into the corner, cloak hanging across the foot of the bed, crossbows and quivers neatly placed on a nearby table, gloves and pauldrons resting next to her breastplate and leg-guards.

"She can be very stubborn," Eirena said softly.

Lyndon smiled. "Sounds familiar."

He thanked Eirena, asked her to check on Kormac for him – "Make sure he doesn't panic when he wakes up and finds me gone" – and pulled a chair into the room after she left. He dragged the chair across the stone floor, but the racket didn't stir the hunter from her rest. He set it close to the head of the bed, and sat down heavily.

He watched her for a moment. Her back was to him. She almost looked vulnerable, but he took no chances. A woman like this one didn't accept a sleep aid and use it unless she had no fear of the people who surrounded her.

He tightened his grip on his blanket. "I heard you say I saved your life," he said softly, "but I think it's the other way 'round. So… thanks. Probably the only time you'll ever get that word out of me, so, enjoy it while you can. I mean it."

He studied the scars he could see, imagined the ones that lay beneath her clothes. He wondered if he'd ever be able to look at his newest scars and not think of her. She'd risked a great deal of trust to follow him to the end of his road. He did not know how to repay that kind of loyalty. He watched her turn in her sleep, now facing him, one hand tucked beneath her pillow, the other resting on the mattress. He saw the numerous healing scratches and scrapes dotting her fingers and hands, and wished, for one moment, he could take them all away.

For the first time, he saw her without burdens on her shoulders, without a world to save, without a demon or a monster to slay. His attention focused on her hair, long, black as the darkness she embraced, loose and badly in need of brushing. He smiled faintly.

"Probably best I tell you this when you're asleep, otherwise I'll never say it," he whispered, confident no one could hear him. He reached out, took her hand in his. He laced his fingers between hers. "You were right, you know. Men choose to fall. We've all got choices to make, and what we decide puts us where we belong. You had a choice, too: you could've left me anytime you wanted. You could've walked away, let me do what I wanted, and left me to deal with the consequences myself. Instead, you stuck with me, you stood by me, you _killed_ for me. I mean, how many men have friends who will go that far for them? men like me certainly don't have friends like you."

He swallowed, squeezed her hand. "My brother was the last great friend I had. Then I met you, and I thought you were just another joyless hunter, nothing keeping you going except your hate. Then you helped me, and you came with me when anyone else would've abandoned me. I'm not sure why you did it, to be honest, and I'm not sure I'll ever know. Like I said, men like me don't have friends like you; we don't have people who will do anything for us."

He leaned back in his chair, kept his grip on her hand. "Eirena said you'd called this a reckoning for us. I'm not sure what it is. I know I trust you. is that our reckoning? Is that the outcome of this? I trust you. I know you won't let me fall, no matter what."

He adjusted his grip, thought he felt her return the gesture. She didn't wake.

"I'm not a good man," he added softly, "I know that better than anyone. I'm not a good man at all. You, on the other hand, you're something else, something special. You've been a better friend to me than I've been to you. I'm not sure if there are other adventures out there for you, but, I'd be honored as hell if you'd let me come along to find out."

He bowed his head. "I'd try to earn your friendship, just like you've earned mine. Say the word, and I'll follow you into Hell again. That's one promise I can keep."

"Could you live with those consequences?" Her voice startled him for a moment.

He regained his composure, looked at her, watching him with unfailingly alert eyes. "Gods, girl," he murmured, "don't you ever rest?"

"Not often."

"You heard everything I just said, didn't you?"

She nodded.

Lyndon groaned. "So. Do you want to tell the Horadrim his sleeping draught doesn't work or should I?"

"Do you mean what you say?" she asked.

"Mean what with who now?"

"You don't need to earn my friendship, Lyndon, but were you serious about following me?"

"I… wouldn't mind," he admitted. "I mean, assuming I wouldn't get in your way. I know you like your 'alone time.'"

"I've spent most of my life alone," she said. "I confess, I don't mind some company."

"So you wouldn't mind mine?"

She smiled. "You have that look in your eye."

"What look?"

"There's a pocket to pick, a jewel to steal, or a farmer's daughter to liberate."

He snorted. "All there's left to liberate is my dignity from these damned bandages and weak legs."

"A few more days, then," she said.

"Then we'll seek our fortunes together," he added.

He was rewarded with a smile. He'd never tell her, but it was a better prize than any jewel he could steal. He had to have at least one secret he could still call his own.

_The End_


End file.
